


Those With Purpose Will Never Hollow

by PontiffPrune (LieutenantShini)



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls III
Genre: Anal Sex, Armor Kink, Cockblocking, Creampie, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29561667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LieutenantShini/pseuds/PontiffPrune
Summary: Two brothers impatiently wait for the world to die, and a determined little ash doesn't like that.
Relationships: Ashen One/Lorian Elder Prince
Comments: 13
Kudos: 28





	Those With Purpose Will Never Hollow

**Author's Note:**

> Ok fair warning, this is the first fanfic I have ever written. It's not going to be very good.  
> I'm enjoying the writing process though, and I'm happy that I put myself out of my comfort zone to try and make something for the fandom that I love!
> 
> PS: It's also a bit of a slow start so you might want to take your fingers off your bits for now 😉 there will be plenty of smut in the chapters that follow.
> 
> PPS: I'm having some issues with formatting but I hope to get all of it fixed. I apologize for the janky reading experience.

\---

  
  


Time passed rather slowly for the princes sequestered high above the Grand Archives, at the top of Lothric Castle. Ever since they both agreed to let the fire die, having locked themselves away in the younger brother's bedchamber, Lorian found himself in a state of dormancy he was unaccustomed to. Lorian had bared his brother's curse to help ease their suffering, and in turn, he had gone from being a skilled and revered knight to being one unable to walk or speak. And, while he was reconciled to his fate & acquired disabilities, there were certainly times where he yearned to spar on the training grounds again, or laugh with comrades in the barracks.

Just how many hours, days, months - perhaps even _years_ \- have now passed with him watching the dust swirl in the fleeting sunlight, as he rests beside Lothric? And just how many more until the fire finally fades? Is time even progressing as they lay in meditative silence? Lorian strived to push such thoughts out of his mind, for the sake of his own sanity.

Sometimes, a misguided warrior or two would push open the doors to the bedchamber, and provide Lorian a moment of reprieve from his thoughts and his monotony. Although he could only muster the strength to crawl, what remained of his skill with his sword, coupled with Lothric's miracles, were usually more than enough to obliterate any intruder and ignite Lorian's old desire for battle.

Lothric, on the other hand, loathed any and all interruptions to the end that he resigned himself to. The sound of the bedchamber doors opening once more, ruining his perfect, comfortable silence, elicited a spite-filled scoff from his throat. 

"Oh, dear. Another dogged contender..." Lothric couldn't help but roll his eyes under the concealment of his hood. "Welcome, unkindled one. Purloiner of cinders," he mocked the small figure that peeked its helm into the room.

The figure hesitated, as if they were contemplating what decisions that led them to such a place, but ultimately the figure stepped fully into view - the door shutting abruptly behind them. The figure, clad in a set of mismatched full-plate, moved to stand in the center of the bedchamber, before clearing their throat. "Prince Lothric, I have come to persuade you - to take your place as a Lord of Cinder, and to aid in the linking of the fire."

"Well," Lothric tilted his head at the audacity of the Ashen One, "mind you, the mantle of Lord interests me none. The Firelinking curse, the legacy of the Lords - I intend to let it all fade into nothing."

"... Oh, um..." Lothric watched in slight bewilderment as the armored figure awkwardly fumbled with the large sword strapped to their back. After a few moments, they were able to free it from its sheath and take up a combat-like stance. "I guess I'll have to convince you the hard way... Uh, t-then..." Their voice, along with their confidence, trailed off as they noticed a massive figure emerging from the darkness of the bed frame.

Lorian's armour scraped against the feathers and stone that littered the floor, each movement echoing around the large room as he dragged himself towards the intruder. Lothric clasped his hands together and continued, "You've done quite enough, unkindled one. Now have your rest." 

Lorian felt lightweight as his brother's miracle swirled around him, and he lifted his greatsword in anticipation to be teleported. A moment later, Lorian reappeared beside the Ashen One and brought down his sword. The Ashen One had the reflex to dive away from their impending death, just barely, as Lorian's greatsword grazed their helmet - ripping it off of them and crushing it between the blade and the now crumbling stone floor. The Ashen One let out a shriek and lifted their sword defensively, cringing as Lorian swung his blade once more with enough force to send theirs flying. 

"Oh, _fuck_ -" The Ashen One's words were silenced, their wide eyes staring down at the greatsword lodged through their chest.

The world faded away, along with the light from their eyes, before their flesh and armour blackened and crumbled and faded as well - leaving nothing but a pile of ash and blood where they stood.

\---

_"GASP--"_

The Ashen One awoke within the warm glow of a bonfire. Dazed, they tried to catch their breath while staring up at the orange sky above them.

Right, they had been here before. This is the bridge where they fought the Dragonslayer Armour. 

With a groan, the Ashen One reached up and pulled off their helmet to study it. Of all the battles they've fought so far, never did they feel so ill-prepared and caught off-guard as they did in that bed chamber. "I can't believe I forgot he had a brother," they muttered through the memory of their embarrassing 3-second fight.

It was times like this where the Ashen One had to wonder why they were resurrected in the first place. 

A forlorn man they had met at Firelink Shrine was kind enough to fill them in on their situation. The bell had tolled, and a champion who had previously failed to inherit the Fire would be resurrected to wrangle up the Lords of Cinder - who have all conveniently decided to abandon their duties. That ill-fated champion was the Ashen One - whose true name was lost along with any recollection of their previous life.

The Ashen One was not alone in this harrowing task of Cinder-retrieval, for the forlorn man - Hawkwood, he called himself - was also resurrected for the same fate, along with others. One for each Lord intent on damning this world.

But it seemed that the Ashen One was unique in that they truly had no idea what they were doing.

Arriving at Firelink Shrine was a fluke - though they would never tell anyone that truth. It was pure luck that they were able to get the towering Gundyr to lunge at them and fall straight off the cliff-side, but not before succumbing to his halberd too many times to count.

Without any prior knowledge of battle or adventure, and the weight of their duty sitting heavily on their shoulders, the Ashen One spent what felt like weeks practicing with a variety of weapons against various hollows atop the High Wall. When it came time to fight the giant misshapen knight known as Vordt, it took death after death, and plenty of screaming and sobbing before the monster was felled.

And so, the Ashen One’s “cycle of pain” was laid out for them. They would spend weeks training among lesser hollows, and looting old corpses & forgotten chests for anything that could withstand the next big monster in their way. It was easier some days, like when they met up with sane undead to take down demons and lords. And then there were other days, where aggressive phantoms would suddenly materialize to undo all of their hard work.

But the Ashen One persevered, and now they found themselves alone and in need of collecting the last missing cinder.

A cinder that was guarded by a teleporting man-shaped behemoth wielding a flaming greatsword.

The Ashen One let out a grunt of frustration, and chucked their helmet off to the side. “Okay, fine. We’ll try something else,” they mumbled to themselves, reaching into their bottomless box of armour and weaponry.

  
  
\---

  
  
A few days had passed, and the princes had returned to their comfortable silence. Lorian lounged in front of the large window, closest to the bed and his brother, and watched the light reflect patterns onto the silk and feather-lined floor. His thoughts were rather intrusive today, which he blamed on the pathetic excuse for an unkindled that he last fought. He expended more energy crawling out from his lounging spot than he did in actual combat, leaving him wholly dissatisfied. Just how long will it take for another intruder to stumble upon this place?

As if his silent prayer was answered, the sound of the bedchamber doors and Lothric’s annoyed whine caught his attention.

“Welcome, unkindled-- ah,” Lothric dropped his theatrics and watched the familiar figure march into view, “you’re a conscientious Champion of Ash, aren’t you? Unwavering in the duties that were thrust upon you.”

“Prince Lothric,” they started, “you must fulfill your duty as a Lord of Cinder, and aid in the linking of the fire.” The Ashen One donned a similar set of mismatched plate, though this time they opted for a thicker helmet. They readied their shield and straight sword as the sound of Lorian’s armour grew louder.

“I was not swayed the first time. And now you dare trespass once more, spouting the same nonsense…” Lothric brought his hands together, and Lorian lifted his greatsword in preparation for his first strike.

Not a second later, Lorian was teleported behind the intruder, and his sword connected with the stone floor where the Ashen One had stood. His second and third swings were only met with air, as the Ashen One dipped and rolled out of the way in time. 

He felt a blade drag across the back of his thigh - enough to scratch his armour, but nothing more. He swept his sword behind him and made contact with the Ashen One's shield, knocking them a distance away and off their feet.

The Ashen One breathed heavily inside of their helmet. They scrambled to stand, alarmed by the tell-tale light of a miracle swirling in front of them. 

"Shit!! No no no n--!"

Lorian's fiery blade skewered them as he materialized, pinning their form to the floor.

The Ashen One's world began to fade away once more, with Lothric's muffled words chasing after them. “Let this be your final resting place, unkindled one, as it is ours.”

\---

_"GASP--"_

The Ashen One blinked up at the muddied orange sky. A groan resonated inside of their helmet.

"Damn it…" At least they lasted a few more seconds that time.

If there was one thing the Ashen One had going for them - to the eventual dismay of all their enemies - was a near-bottomless well of determination. Digging again into their equipment cache, the Ashen One pulled out various tunics and platemail to compare their qualities. Intricate, heavy pieces were tossed aside, one by one, until their hands grasped a clean set of leathers.

With a hum in their throat, and a smile forming on their face, the Ashen one plotted their next move.

\---

Time began to pass by a little quicker for at least one of the princes atop Lothric Castle, thanks to a peculiar little ash, hell-bent on disturbing the peace that the youngest prince desperately desired. 

Lorian felt discontented, at first - he didn't particularly enjoy having to drag himself out every few days to a fight that he could win in his sleep. A mixture of apathy and frustration often clouded his mind each time the unkindled dissipated around his sword. Such thoughts would continue for a few days, until the faithful sound of the bedchamber doors creaking open nudged him from his lounging spot once again.

The fifth time the unkindled one returned to their room, Lorian had to admit he was a bit surprised. There had only been a couple undead that had invaded their dwelling more than once - and none had returned after their second or third attempt. With every subsequent visit and defeat, Lorian found that a part of him awaited their return, and he often wondered what sort of strange combination of equipment they would bring next.

The unkindled was pitiful, really - the poor thing clearly lacked any skill in combat, and yet they were cursed to fulfill a foolish prophecy, lest they hollow back into nothing. Still, their perseverance was admirable.

Lothric begged to differ. The unkindled's presence exasperated him more and more each day, to the point where he couldn't relax even on the days they weren't around. He had half a mind to seek out the bonfire that the wretched ash spawned at and destroy it. If only he and Lorian weren't bound to this room by their inability to walk.

It was around the unkindled's tenth attempt that Lothric implored Lorian to fight them on his own. Lorian gave Lothric a gentle pat on his shoulder in response, and took initiative in greeting their intruder ever since. 

Fighting one-on-one with the Ashen One provided a unique form of enrichment for Lorian. He had no troubles decimating the unkindled in mere seconds, so he frequently toyed with the ash - smacking them with the flat side of his blade, rather cleaving them in half, or waving fire at their feet to keep them moving. This often elicited humorous squawks from the Ashen one, which, in turn, motivated Lorian to keep up his antics.

Lorian wasn't entirely sure when the Ashen One's visits had started to become cordial in nature. Perhaps it was during the unkindled's twenty-second attempt, when Lorian had sent their sword flying out of their hands, less than a minute into their fight. The Ashen One slapped a hand to their helmet in obvious frustration, and sat waiting for the prince to put an end to them. Instead, to both of their surprise, Lorian had picked up their sword and tossed it back at them. 

\---

The Ashen One hesitated, suddenly acutely aware of the severity of their own ineptitude. To have their adversary be so nonchalant and unthreatened by their existence… It was sobering at best. They debated hollowing away right then and there, if only to save themselves from further embarrassment, but they were quickly pulled from those thoughts when the elder prince lightly tapped his sword against theirs. 

He waited patiently for the unkindled's response, nodding once at their weapon in encouragement. Eventually, the Ashen One yielded their pride and attacked once more. Lorian stayed on the defensive without much effort, letting the unkindled test a variety of approaches. This went on for the better part of an hour, and Lorian felt he would have let it continue longer, had a bolt of holy light not pierce the unkindled's skull, killing them instantly.

Lorian looked over to the bed and at his brother, whose hands were still clasped from conjuring up a magic projectile. The look of disapproval for the elder prince's high-jinks was etched clearly across Lothric's face. 

"Dear brother… I know you are not one to lose sight of what the unkindled represents. Nor do I believe you'd forget why we have secluded ourselves in the first place." Lothric shot a pointed look at Lorian, causing the elder prince's lips to squeeze into a tight line.

Of course he hadn't forgotten. He sacrificed all he had and forsook the world itself, just to keep his baby brother from becoming kindling for the flame. He'd do it again in a heartbeat, and Lothric knew this truth. 

Lorian eventually huffed out a sigh, and shuffled towards the bed. Lothric frowned as his elder brother enveloped him in a loose embrace, his exhaustion setting in as he was lulled to rest by the gentle pats on his head.

Lorian, having lost the ability to sleep long ago, watched over his younger brother as he always did - though he let his mind wander elsewhere, to a familiar figure seated in front of a nearby bonfire. Such thoughts did not alleviate the lump that formed in his throat.

\---

The next few attempts the Ashen One made were met with brutality and swiftness from the elder prince, though the Ashen One wasn't all that surprised. They had glanced behind Lorian, up to the massive bed, and at the cloaked figure who was swirled up in a nest of thin blankets. The Ashen One's gaze was pulled back to the elder prince when he subtly shook his head - a silent answer to the question they didn't know they had (nor did they know how to ask). It seemed that Lothric did, on some level, hold power over his older brother, though the Ashen One decided in the end that it was best not to speculate the details. Not when they were being slaughtered with nary a second to spare a thought.

By attempt twenty-nine, however, the elder prince's sadistic sense of humor resurfaced, and little by little, their fights began to drag on longer - though not long enough for Lothric to feel compelled to interfere as he once did. 

In fact, a hint of nostalgia often accompanied the sight of his elder brother tormenting the unkindled. It reminded him of a time long ago, where he used to sneak away from his attendants to watch Lorian train with his knights. 

Lothric was not blind to his brother's sentiments towards the Ashen One's efforts, either. It was clear that Lorian became more of his old self when given the opportunity to swing his sword, and Lothric was not opposed to it, not when the unkindled could not so much as pierce his armor. An ash so set on their path that the bell couldn't possibly toll for another was quite the boon, indeed.

But there were some days, like on attempt forty-five, where his fatigue bolstered his impatience to the point where he refused to let the incessant ash set foot past the doors - shooting bolts of magic through their body before Lorian could greet them.

Lothric collapsed back into his blankets, breathing a sigh of relief as he nestled himself deeper into their warmth, and shut his eyes. Perhaps now he could finally get some undisturbed sleep--

The bed creaked under the weight of Lorian as he sat down. Lothric peeked up at his brother and huffed out another sigh. "Quit sulking, my dear brother. You know they will be back here tomorrow, so let me have a break from your clashing swords today." He let out a yawn, only for it to be stifled when Lorian shifted, flopping down beside him in protest. Lorian let out his own huff, keen to take their frustrations out on the unkindled tenfold the next time they show.

  
  


\---

Lorian situated himself against an adjacent pillar near the center of the room, and idly tapped his armoured fingers against his cuisse. The unkindled hadn't shown up yet, though it was hard to gauge just how long he'd been waiting. 

As more time passed without any sign of the unkindled, a growing sense of wrongness creeped into his mind. The Ashen One had almost routinely shown up, at most, every couple of days, which the brothers believed to be how long it took for them to revive and make their way back to their chamber. They didn't seem like the type to stray from their objective, no matter how pointless or how futile their efforts have been. 

He looked up at his little brother, who was visibly content at the lack of intrusion as of late. At least one of them was in high spirits, he supposed.

Still, Lorian couldn't shake the thought that perhaps the Ashen One wouldn't be coming back this time - that maybe they've given up and hollowed somewhere, or they've gotten themselves trapped - and he'd never know. He couldn't explain or identify the heavy feeling in his chest, nor the tightness in his throat, both of which grew more noticeable as time went on.

Lothric did try his best to comfort his elder brother with words of reassurance, but his stance on the matter was clear: so long as the bell at Firelink Shrine does not toll for another unkindled, good riddance to them. 

Lorian disagreed with him on that. He felt reluctant to return to dormancy just yet, not after spending the last few months indulging himself in their new company. In a mild act of defiance, he settled on keeping himself busy by way of mock training as he continued to wait for the Ashen One's return.

It was after Lorian had cleaved through the third candelabra and singed a curtain that Lothric came up with a compromise.

"Why don't you play with one of the knights on guard outside? I'm sure they could offer up a better distraction than a chair," he gestured towards the doors and let out a yawn. "Call one up here, if you must. Preferably before your boredom destroys the last of the furniture." 

Lorian stopped and glowered at his brother, arms now crossed, and Lothric continued, "Should the unkindled not return by week's end, it would do you well to put all of this behind you. It would take a miracle for that little ash to live to see the end, anyways."

The elder prince clicked his tongue in response, eyeing the set of closed doors that he hadn't touched in ages. He wasn't entirely keen on leaving his defenseless brother alone and unguarded.

"Fresh air might do you some good, dear brother. I plan to enjoy a nap in your absence," Lothric smirked, though it faded shortly after, and he looked at Lorian earnestly, "Do not be gone for long."

A few moments passed before Lorian uncrossed his arms. ‘ _Very well_ ,’ he thought. ‘ _The gargoyles outside might make for better company._ ’ Lorian made for the exit, and as he did, he purposefully dragged the tip of his greatsword against the floor to create a horrid sound that had his little brother whining for him to stop. The elder prince chuckled silently to himself as he pulled open the doors to the outside world.

  
  


\---

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this intro chapter! Again, this is my first time writing something like this. I hope it wasn't too bad.
> 
> I'm writing this in between long hours of work, so please be patient if you decide to stick around.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts in the comments c: constructive criticism is very welcome.
> 
> <3


End file.
